


Loveless

by Pastel_Teacups



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Marriage Proposal, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 08:02:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1933161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bossuet and Musichetta have been distant. Joly expects the worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loveless

It wasn’t right. 

Joly was unsure about introducing Bossuet into his and Musichetta’s relationship, but once they’d started getting on so well, his nerves had dissipated substantially. 

Now, though, they seemed to be getting on a bit _too_ well.

They appeared to be spending more and more time together lately. They always went shopping together, coming back with knowing smiles and bright eyes. Joly would invite them to have lunch with him between hospital shifts, but they’d both brush him off with excuses of work or school. 

In general, Joly wasn’t feeling very loved. 

After nearly a month of such behavior, anxiety crept into the medical student’s brain. He threw himself into hectic shifts at the emergency room, trying to dissipate the awful feeling bubbling in his chest. 

Had his girlfriend _and_ best friend left him? He couldn’t help but wonder, even as he treated everyone from children with strep throat to teeangers who’d jumped off of roofs and broken their arms. 

He’d just finished a particularly long twelve hour shift when he walked through the door, wanting nothing more than to fall into bed. 

But there, lounging on the couch in each other’s arms, were Bossuet and Musichetta. 

“Hello, darling,” Musichetta greeted, hardly looking up. “Kettle’s on. We’re watching a movie.” 

Joly couldn’t help it. The sight of them, without him, pushed his exhausted self over the edge, and he began to cry. 

Tears slipped down his face, but he turned away without a sound. “Thanks. I’m just gonna go to bed.” 

“We’ll be in after the movie,” Bossuet promised distractedly, glancing up to see the back of Joly’s head. 

He made it to the bedroom, tugging off his street clothes and crawling under the covers, tears still rolling down his cheeks and wetting his pillowcase. 

Though he wasn’t loud, a part of him had silently hoped that they would hear him, that they would come in and try to console him.

But they didn’t. 

_________

Joly woke up to nothing. An empty bed, stinging eyes, and no one. 

He unraveled himself from the accumulated blankets, having no interest in lingering without his loves, and pushed a hand through his hair. 

After a shower and a vain attempt to clear his head, he stepped out into the living room. 

Bossuet and Musichetta were sitting on the couch, like the night before, except they looked up when he entered. “Hi, love. We made breakfast.” 

“Chetta made breakfast. I burned myself.” Bossuet replied, lifting a lazily bandaged hand.

Though he wanted to be indignant, the paranoid medical student inside made him shuffle forward. “Let me see that.” 

He sat down beside them and unbound his hand, locating the forever-well-stocked first aid kit and rebandaging it. After he was done, he drew away. 

“Right,” Musichetta said, kissing Joly’s cheek. “Breakfast?” 

With that, they all shuffled into the kitchen. Joly let Musichetta guide him into a chair, and waited as she puttered around the kitchen, a few pots and pans clattering together.

“How’s your hand?” Joly asked Bossuet, feeling just the way he had when they’d gone on their first date. Awkward. Nervous. Alone. 

Bossuet smiled, and a knife is driven into Joly’s stomach. He looked so happy, without him there in the past few days. “Better.” 

He nodded softly, swallowing the lump in his throat. He wouldn’t cry. No.

Musichetta deposited a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him, sinking into her seat with a serene smile. 

Joly wanted to scream. 

“Go on, eat.” She said, watching him. “It’s not like I poisoned it.” 

He picked up his fork, though he wasn’t hungry, and stabbed at his food for a bit. 

They sat in silence for a while, before Musichetta spoke. “Joly, darling, we have something to tell you.” 

That was it. Joly knew that that was the moment that they’d tell him. Tell him that they were in love, that he wasn’t right for them, that they’d all be happier without him there. 

He put down his fork and swallowed dryly, looking between them. “Yes?” 

He pretended not to hear the shaking in his voice. 

Musichetta looked at Bossuet and they exchanged a knowing smile before they both stood, moving towards Joly. A group effort, they tugged his chair out and knelt in front of him. 

“Joly-” Bossuet started, reaching into his pocket. 

“-With all our love and care-” Musichetta said, holding something hidden in her small hands. 

“-And unluckiness,” Bossuet added, smiling up at him. 

“We wanted to ask you-” 

They both unfolded their hands and opened the small velvet boxes. 

Inside, both of boxes held a small silver ring. “-If you would marry us.” 

Joly’s heart leapt. Could it be? He took a look at them and felt tears spring up in his eyes, nodding. 

Soon enough the tears were pouring down his face, and he sunk to the ground between them. 

They both slipped their rings onto Joly’s finger, before wrapping their arms around him. 

“I thought-I thought-” Joly wiped his eyes and leaned into their embrace, giving another sob. 

“What?” Bossuet asked, rubbing between Joly’s shoulderblades soothingly. 

Joly paused and looked up at him, then at Musichetta, before shaking his head. 

“Nothing.” He said, wrapping his arms around them. “It’s not important.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Comments + Kudos are always appreciated!


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